


Follow the Night

by gostorain



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3597021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gostorain/pseuds/gostorain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr post:</p><p>“Clarke having a disturbingly easy time wandering around the forest and then later she finds out it’s because Lexa was straight up following her for like a week and a half killing anything that got near. </p><p>Clarke only finding out Lexa’s following her because she strips down to bathe in a small river and Lexa slips up and flat out trips at the sight of Clarke naked.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Angstier than it sounds. I tried.

She left with nothing but the clothes on her back, the boots on her feet, the sun behind her and the shadows falling on her face.

Clarke knew that if she was thinking, she would have retrieved some supplies before setting out—a pack with some dried foods, flint to start a fire, extra clothes—but she was not thinking. The only thing on her mind was leaving. She _needed_ to leave, to get away from the walls of Camp Jaha and the looming height of Mount Weather in the horizon and the sights and sounds of victory because it did not feel like victory to Clarke. The only thing she craved was distance. Distance from the people she saved, the people she lost and the people whose fate she had sealed with the smooth pull of a switch. It was her burden to shoulder, but she needed to get far enough away to set it down for a while. To mourn her losses and rest her aching shoulders and mind from the sheer weight of reality and sacrifice.

And so she walked. She did not march or trek or hike or move with a purpose because she had no direction, no destination. Her only intention was _away_.

She never realized how loud silence could be until she was hours out from camp, trudging out across an open field of dead grass. She heard the light crunch of the weeds, felt them bend and break under her feet. Her lonely steps roared in her ears, setting a slow rhythm that drained her to her very core but was also the only thing that kept her moving. Because yes she was slow but slow was better than stopping and she felt like stopping would mean stopping forever and never being able to get back up again. Her mind was occupied by the deafening silence around her. She was so used to an endless barrage of sounds. Voices, warnings, signals, screams sometimes, laughs other times, the sound of her own thoughts as she struggled to figure out to save her people and end the war. But the war was over and the Mountain Men were dead and their blood dripped from her hands. She felt alone in the world, so utterly and completely alone, as if she had killed off everyone on Earth instead of the souls in the mountain. She wondered if maybe she did end all other existence for herself—if she had become a monster that no other human would be able to understand. Maybe she was truly alone.

It sure felt like it.

~~~

The first night was the hardest. It was also the easiest. She had no shelter, but she did not care. She was cold because she couldn’t start a fire, but it was alright because the chill of the night was nothing compared to the cold she felt inside her bones. She was hungry, but she did not know if the emptiness was in her stomach or somewhere much deeper. Clarke simply stopped at the point where her feet could no longer bear her weight. Lying on the cold, hard ground in the night, she fell asleep. She felt the trees watching her, but she heard no sounds. She felt no fear.

~~~

Days and nights passed, and she kept moving on. That’s what she told herself she was doing—moving on from the past, from her awful decisions, from the burden of leading and saving and surviving. She passed forests, fields, rocky terrain, swampy marshes, and she kept going.

The silence was lonely but she refused to admit it. 

~~~

It was not until Clarke counted ten sunrises and sunsets that she became wary of the soundless days. It was eerie. She realized that she had encountered no opposition in her expedition. No predators had stalked her, no dangers had crossed her path. Birds littered the trees, small creatures bustled across the ground, but nothing big enough to make Clarke’s cloudy eyes blink twice. A small part of her worried about the implications of it. Was there a bigger danger out there? But the fight in Clarke, which was once a blazing inferno that galloped through her veins, had been reduced to a small glowing ember that had settled onto the floor of what was left in her heart. It itched to reach for the small knife she kept in her boot, but the weight of the world kept her from unsheathing it. She had interfered in the natural order of fate and life and death too much already. If the universe meant for her to die at the hands of nature, who was she to stop it?

Blood must have blood.

~~~

There was a safety in the silence of life, but the Earth had its own symphony. The sounds of storms and winds and even the slight twinkling that came from a sunny day was all that Clarke listened to. She had not heard her own voice, had not spoken in fifteen days. She had been living like a scavenger. She had lost weight but she felt heavier than ever. Her cheeks were slightly hollow from her ghosts, her legs weary from her travels. She was covered in dust and grime, dirty both inside and out, but she did not feel it until the sixteenth night.

She dreamt that she had pulled the lever in Mount Weather, just like every other dream since The Night. This time, the door to the control room burst open, letting in a flood of blood, warm and sticky. She watched it rise past her feet, her calves, thighs, up her chest and over her head. She choked on it, sputtered and tried to breathe, but she couldn’t in the awful, thick liquid. As she was drowning, struggling for oxygen and eyes shut tight against the blood, she heard a hundred voices chant in unison.

 _“This is what it felt like_.”

~~~

She ran. She ran as fast as she could as soon as she woke from the nightmare. The sun had barely risen, but she had enough light to see where her feet pounded against the forest floor. She ran until she heard the bubbling of a river, a stream, a pond, a puddle, _something_ she could jump into and bathe herself in. She wanted to, needed to scrub her skin clean from the feeling of hot blood surrounding her. She felt the dirt and grime crack and bend with the movement of her skin and it made her stomach churn.

She burst through the trees and into a clearing with a small river running through a small field of wheat. Tall rocks lay across the sides of it, wet and cold from a lifetime of fresh water. She approached the stream a little more carefully till she could smell it, feel the light spray of it. She had enough thought to strip down, to keep her clothes dry because she was far from done. She slowly and carefully took off her jacket, then her two shirts. Pulled off her boots, peeled off her pants. She stretched her feet and arms, marveling slightly at the freedom. She breathed in the fresh air. Looked at the mix of colors across the sky as the sun began to rise from its slumber. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, dropped it on the ground beside her. Bent over and pulled off her underwear. The small voice deep inside her wondered if there was anyone out there watching. The bigger voice did not acknowledge the thought, did not respond. Goosebumps spread across her skin, whether it was from the slight chill in the morning breeze or something else, she didn’t know.

She took careful steps across the rocks and towards the water, tentative and safe, but jumped into the water without a second thought. There was no safety in her need for cleanliness, her desire to wash everything off herself. The cold was like a slap, harsh and sharp against every inch of her skin. She submerged herself, closed her eyes and lost herself in the different silence of this underwater world. She felt the water rush against her, running towards some unknown destination, always moving and never stopping. She realized she was not alone in the universe for wanting what this river did all its life—to move and keep moving towards some place, some gravity that pulled them inexplicably. She felt new in the darkness underwater, as if she were baptized or maybe, maybe even cleansed of some sin. She pushed her head above the surface, gasping as the fresh air greeted her. She slowly scrubbed at her skin, watching as the dirt quickly washed away with the water. She had forgotten what it felt like to be clean, to see herself clean. When she was satisfied, she slowly stepped out of the river. She shivered slightly as her wet skin chilled with the breeze, but she stood for a moment on the rocks, conceding that something that changed in the water and that she was ready for whatever would come next. She had lost herself in a moment in the mountain, but she had found herself again just as fast. She had survived everything thus far. She would survive more. She would live.

It was then that she heard a loud crunch and thud in the trees.

Faster than Clarke thought possible, faster than she had realized she was capable of, she rushed to where she had left her clothes. She threw on a shirt and grabbed the small knife she had kept despite her immense distaste at the idea of surviving. But things were different now, she was different and new in a way. And this was her first test.

She crouched low with the knife upside down in her hand, just like she was taught. _Slash, don’t stab. Move fast, stay alive._ She quieted her breathing and kept herself below the tall wheat, trying to scope out the danger. She had nothing but a thin shirt on, but she no longer felt the cold. She felt adrenaline warm her veins and it was invigorating. She had forgotten how it felt. 

She stared through squinted eyes as the trees illuminated with the rising sun. She spotted where the sound had come from and saw a dark mass rustling on the ground near the trees. She crept closer, trying to get a better look. It was human for sure. The figure was shaded and dark, but it was definitely a person. She would wait until they made the first move. She was in no position to be on the offense. She would wait.

“ _Clarke_.”

The blood froze in her veins. She knew that voice. She could also hear the emotion and pain in it. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was rough from disuse.

“L-Lexa?”

“Clarke.”

She could not believe it.

When the silence filled the yards between them, Lexa continued, and that’s when Clarke realized something was wrong.

“Clarke, I believe I am injured,” Lexa said. Her voice would sound calm to the untrained ear, but Clarke knew Lexa better than she cared to admit and knew there was pain laced in her words. 

“J-Just wait a second. Let me…put on some clothes.” Clarke stood at her full height and ran back towards the water. She pulled on her underwear and pants with shaking hands. Thoughts of betrayal and feelings of some sort of relief battled in her head, offsetting each other and leaving a strange sort of quiet peace. She rushed towards Lexa’s voice and found her on the ground. When Clarke broke through the wheat, the two girls stared at each other. Neither knew how to acknowledge the weight of their past, what had happened between them, so they fell into the safety net of the present. Clarke switched into her healer mode, blocking out any and all emotions for the moment. She went and crouched next to Lexa.

“What happened?” Lexa blushed hard at the question and Clarke marveled at the color that flooded the commander’s bare face.

“I-I was in the tree. I fell. It’s my leg.” She gestured towards her right leg. Clarke reached a gentle hand towards the knee, touching and testing lightly. She moved up and down the leg and was greeted with a hiss in pain when her hand prodded Lexa’s calf. She judged the immediate swelling and tested her knee again.

“It’s not too awful. You have a slight fracture on this bone,” she said as she gestured to Lexa’s calf, “probably from impact.” Lexa just grunted and looked down, avoiding Clarke’s questioning eyes. Clarke felt powerful with Lexa’s uneasiness. She sat herself down opposite of the commander and stared straight at her.

“May I ask why you were in a tree out here in the middle of nowhere?” Clarke asked, trying but failing to keep the bite of sarcasm out of her words. Lexa paused and contemplated her answer. The slight set of her jaw told Clarke that she would tell the truth and nothing but the truth. She looked up and countered Clarke’s stare with her own.

“I’ve been following you for fifteen days. My scouts informed me that you had left your camp without any supplies and had ventured deep into the forests without any regard for direction. I left. I found you. I followed you. And here we are.”

Clarke didn’t know whether to be furious or confused or thankful. The overwhelming emotions warring inside her must have shown on her face because Lexa continued. She wanted to show Clarke honesty, emotion, her true feelings. She could not do it behind the mask of her war paint or with the burden of her people on her shoulders. But they were out in the world, alone and far away from anything that kept the distance between them much too wide for any warmth.

“I wanted to keep you safe,” she said in a small voice, a far cry from her usual, confident commands, “safe despite what I had done that would indicate otherwise.”

Clarke swallowed at the confession. She didn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. She waited as the argument played out in her head. She could rage at Lexa for her betrayal, but the truth was, she understood Lexa’s decision because she had felt it in the cold, hard touch of the lever under her hand. She could be furious about how Lexa had abandoned her when she needed her, but she knew she did the same with the Sky people after their victory, when they needed someone to look to. She could yell at Lexa for the pain she felt when she had walked away, not as a commander but as a girl she felt her heart call out for, but Clarke was the one who had said _not yet_. She felt the peace creep in as every scenario played out and passed. She had no desire for any more pain for either of them. She sighed, filling the heavy silence between them.

“You’re not going to be able to move for a few days with that leg. Let’s get you comfortable,” she said in a soft voice. Lexa opened her mouth to protest, but Clarke held up a finger, shushing her.

“You will do as I say until you’re properly healed. Consider it payment for seeing me naked,” Clarke said, and she was more surprised than Lexa at her teasing. She remembered her father’s words suddenly. _Humor is the best medicine for any hurt, any break, any pain_. She would survive this. 

Lexa blushed hard, but nodded quietly. She would have to explain later, and both of them knew it. Clarke turned around and started for the water again to retrieve the rest of her things. She felt warm rays across her back and in her hair as the start of morning finally rose above the tops of the trees and the mountain in the distance. Night had ended in a sudden wave, the cold darkness warmed and illuminated in the arrival of the sun. 

It was a new day.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr:  
> gostorain.tumblr.com


End file.
